L'espion
by SilentTrainConductor
Summary: The thoughts and musings of a certain spy ;)


**Title**: L'espion

**Author:** SilentTrainConductor

**Notes:** Just many thanks for those who have read and reviewed my past stories, thank you all from the bottom of my heart.

_**OoOoO**_

I had no intention of this. And yet, I did. It was my fault and my doings that the man before me was about to die. I had betrayed him. I shuddered and pulled my coat tighter about me.

It could not be helped, I told myself. He would have destroyed my plans, our plans. Devastation and madness would ascend upon us. Although, it seems that I was all a bit late from keeping that from happening.

The crowd murmured in anticipation as the beheading was about to begin. The man had not yet been brought out, and I wondered briefly on how he would look after so long in their prison.

Clearly he would be scraped and beaten, them torturing the fellow for information. Perhaps he cracked and spoke them all he knew. Not that he was rewarded, not that any of us are ever rewarded.

I let my head fall as I remembered my own torturing and realized how lucky I was on having escaped. Hardly any of us are ever so lucky. Sometimes I wish they had killed me that day, at least then I would be dead. I would not have to worry about such a life. I would not care about having betrayed a person that was once a friend.

I remembered on how it was such a short time ago we were playing a game of cards. Oh the look on his face after I beat him was priceless! It made my humors rise so, that I waved off the money he owed me. It was not, after all, like I needed it. He insisted on paying, going on about how it was just and a fair game. I told him that he would pay me back in time; I did not need the money then. I told him, when times are hard and I am wandering the icy streets in winter. When my pockets are empty as my stomach, I shall knock on your door and expect my money. But no, not today.

He agreed with a smile on his face. A genuine smile, that made my heart sink as I watched the happiness go to his eyes. I knew then what I would do. I let the matter turn over in my head. Did this man truly need to die? Why was I so willing on killing him?

The intelligent part of me responded logically.

He is a threat.

He is working for the other side.

He can never be changed of opinion.

He can not be saved.

At least let him die a quick and painless death.

I would not poison him; I did not wish to do the act myself. I would not stab him in the back and become Brutus. I would not cause him pain and shoot him in a duel.

So I whispered into the sensitive ears of those who trust me. I muttered softly, He is a spy for the _English. _

Automatically he was taken from his lodgings, arrested without any sort of explanation. His friend stared behind the scene in shock, amazement and horror. Watching his friend being carried of with the French word "_espion"_ on the authorities lips. He tried to protest against the word, saying his friend was never such a thing. But the prisoner told him to be silent and that he would take care of himself.

I looked at them in secretive pity. The French would take no mercy on him, they never did. I flexed my hand and wondered how long it would be before they gave him his sentence. I turned my back from the scene proud at my accomplishment, and yet as it always is, a bit saddened at how truly evil a man can be.

I jumped at the sound of the drums beginning to beat, the crowd cheering wildly as the man was brought out. Children had their fruits they had saved up for to throw at the man, and wasted no time. I winced at each blow that hit him. He seemed to have lost 2 stones, his hands a bloody mess and his garments as well. He was trying to hide his limp and ignored each piece of food thrown at him. He looked forward and went slowly up the steps, causing the guard behind him to rush him along. Pushing him pitilessly with the end of his gun. Finally the prisoner reached the top of the scaffold and looked down at the spectators with an expressionless face.

"_Estefan Maturin est un homme qui..."_ They went on to listing various made up crimes, ones that could not tie with him being a spy. It was something that was commonly done when we were about to be killed publicly. The town not wanting to let the people know they allowed a spy run amongst their midst. That's why we were usually killed by another of our own, in the alley way where one would think we just got into a violent scramble.

There was rapid whispering beside me, commenting on how such a Doctor and a brilliant naturalist do so many horrendous crimes. He was apparently accused of murder. The condemned man's empty gaze managed to land on me, I looked up at him and cringed as he sent me a gaze of reptilian dislike. I felt his hatred and hurt. I looked away. Allowing myself to wonder if it already was too late for him.

There was ruckus, a loud voice thundering in clear English. Standing out greatly against the vibrant French. It was Stephen's friend. What was his name? Jack Aubery, No Aubrey. Yes, the damn fool. I noticed how Stephen paled at the sight of his friend trying to stand up in his defense. Stephen told me once on how Jack spoke with his heart, not truly with his mind. The fool would clearly have his head cut off with his friend.

A voice that I have never heard before spoke inside of me then.

_You must help. _

Must I?

.  . .  . .  . .  .  .

I suppose it is the right thing to do. I can not let them die, can I? I am after all the one who eagerly wanted to kill before. It is an odd struggle, my mind quickly shifting back and forth. I had made my decision.

The trouble was how do I get about completing it?

Perhaps to go...? I suppose I shall just do what comes to my mind, in a few moments the chaos would end with an unscheduled two heads for the price of one.

I cut through the crowd, pushing them aside in a hurry, they cursing at me in thier tongue. Me not caring, I finally made myself up the steps and had a brief struggle with the guard before I finally pushed him into the crowd below.

There was silence. All eyes were on me, I felt Stephen's heat radiate beside me, his breath coming in shallow gasps. I do not even want to think of what they did to him. I looked to the crowd and smiled. And I began to allow myself to speak in English, knowing that by the officials I would be understood. That those who trusted me will hear me.

"This dear man beside me is no murder_. Il n'est pas un meurtrier._ "The crowd looked at me quizzically and I crossed myself and put up the act of a lost soul. "Dear Lord, it was I who killed that vile person who slept with my wife. Not this man, let this man go free! For it is I who am guilty, not he!" I repeated in French and wept openly with them. As planned, the officials took this as my confession to me being the spy, and it was also a sign on how Stephen never spoke under his torture. I felt myself being hoisted up and many apologies were given to the dear Doctor Maturin.

Stephen stared at me in shock and nodded, saying there was no harm done. Perfectly all right. Many apologies were also given on to the English Captain, saying they had meant no harm. They had thought, well, you see...the man was thought... and they broke off giving their apologies once more. Had they not made peace? They did not want a battle upon their small town. It is a matter to be forgotten, is it not?

Jack nodded, sensing the underlying message and wrapped an arm protectively around Stephen. Fire in his eyes as he noticed how further mutilated the hands of the musician were. But kept his mouth shut and said nothing.

It was then the officials turned to me and began their degrading on how I could have done such a betrayal and that death would await me in the morning. Stephen brushed Jack away to have a private word with me as I was about to be led away.

"Why did you do it?" He whispered solemnly. I smirked and licked my lips in thought.

"I am tired of this life, my friend. That and I am a fool." Stephen did not smile back, knowing that having admitted to being a spy death would await me. I elbowed him and nodded towards the guillotine.

"Rumors and stories say you tend to stay alive after awhile. Think it's true?" Stephen cocked his head and nodded slowly, I winced as I saw that small action caused him pain.

"It's possible."

"I hope they just shoot me."

"You are an odd man, Jean Paul."

"Oh am I? Would not you rather be shot than have your head cut off?"

"You do not have to do either. Tell them the truth." He urged.

"What? And have you both dead? I am surprised they let you free so easily. There have been suspicions floating about you for awhile; of course, I suppose I am the one who caused them." I snickered quietly and rubbed my nose as best I could with my hands tied up. The guards were getting impatient, and began to pull me away from my last true friend. I fought with them and told them curtly.

"Can I not have one more conversation before my death?" They sighed and grunted and plainly said. "No." I shrugged towards Stephen and gave him a true smile.

"I suppose I shall finally be free of this hold. Tomorrow a spy no more. I shall see you again Stephen..." I stopped in bemusement. "Let us hope it is not in the fiery pits of Hell." Stephen finally gave a sad smile, and waved me off. His friend already was with a coat bickering over him to see if he was all right. My last sight before the darkness of the prison enclosed me was the sight of Stephen telling, nay, yelling at Jack that he was fine. The doors closed and I smiled in bliss.

_A spy no more._

I liked the sound of that.

**_Fin_**


End file.
